


joie de vivre

by kurgaya



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, Demisexual Character, Humor, M/M, Nakamaship, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-09
Updated: 2016-09-09
Packaged: 2018-08-10 23:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7866637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurgaya/pseuds/kurgaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>With a spring in his step, the captain clambers around the guffawing group of friends to where Zoro is sitting, and he would have most likely sprawled himself right over Zoro’s lap then and there had every other single person in the room not snagged the back of his shirt.</i><br/> <br/><i>Somebody shouts "Luffy no!" - or maybe they all shout it, squawking and laughing together as they are - and at once there is a clamour of laughter and vehement squabbling.</i><br/> </p><p>Or: a university!AU in which Zoro can't catch a break, his flatmates are scary, coffee solves nothing, and Monkey D. Luffy is a force of nature that cannot - and absolutely will not - be denied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	joie de vivre

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [opreversebang](http://opreversebang.tumblr.com) '16. My partner, [subtlyimpulsive](http://subtlyimpulsive.tumblr.com) over on tumblr, has done some WONDERFUL art which can be found [here](http://subtlyimpulsive.tumblr.com/post/150202003920/my-half-of-opreversebang-with-oraftel-it-was-so) as well as embedded within the fic :DD

 

 

by [subtlyimpulsive](http://subtlyimpulsive.tumblr.com/post/150202003920/my-half-of-opreversebang-with-oraftel-it-was-so)

 

It's the fire alarm blaring through the hazy agony of his slumber that rouses Zoro - _terrifies_ Zoro, more like, ripping him from a dreamless unconscious to hurtle onto the floor. One of the sofa pillows follows him, flinging straight across an unfamiliar living room to crash into a teapot that he doesn't own, but the clatter of it toppling from the tabletop is insignificant compared to the shrill of the alarm fire, bleeping and shrieking and - _swearing_?

“Luffy, I SWEAR TO _GOD_ , I will scoop your incompetent brain into a casserole dish and _BURN IT_ if I didn't think that the oven has already SUFFERED ENOUGH with you ruining EVERY _SINGLE_ THING YOU PUT IN IT.”

Squabbling sounds resound out from a distance, and then there's a wooden _thuwack_ , the _crunch_ of door hinges swinging open, a wail of apology and a giggling laugh, and then the fire alarm dies into blissful silence.

Zoro groans and peels himself from the carpet, nose wrinkling at the squashed beige fabric. As far as he remembers, the carpet in his accommodation is dark enough to hide the wine stains that Nami denies, so it is with some confusion that he flops back onto the sofa, the side of his head throbbing all the while. The bickering of deep voices continues somewhere closeby, but it is all Zoro can do to keep his eyes open as this unrecognisable house spins a sickening pain before him.

Maybe he blacks out for a moment, for when he blinks again, there is a mop of shaggy hair and a dazzling grin just inches from his nose. Zoro squashes himself back into the sofa with a jerking cry, one hand flying up to shove the stranger and his sunny smile away.

“Hey, hey, hey!” laughs the boy, squirming out of reach with a rubbery agility. A straw hat bounces at his shoulders, and Zoro has just enough time to grumble _what_ before the boy is yelling in his ear: “You're up! Hey guys, he's up!”

Zoro has no idea who’s being addressed, but the voice that threatened murder-via-oven calls out just after a beat: “Oi Luffy, ask him if he wants breakfast.”

“D’you want breakfast?” this “Luffy” dutifully parrots, the scar on his cheek pulling up as his eyes crinkle. “D’you wanna join my crew?”

“Err - pardon?” Zoro replies, not sure what else to say. Who these people are is _beyond_ him, and though he figures he must be in their house, sleeping on their _sofa_ , how he came to be here is anybody’s guess.

“Eggs,” Luffy says by way of explanation. “And _pirates_.”

“Pirates,” Zoro echoes, meaning _what the hell_ , meaning _where am I, who’re you, how’d I get here_ , but the previous voice calls out again before he can ask this bouncy weirdo to clarify.

“ _Luffy_ ,” comes the shout from the kitchen, sharp and warning of fire. Luffy winces at the sound of it, scratching his grinning cheek with a childish fluster of guilt. “ _Does he want breakfast or not?_ ”

At Luffy’s questioning look, Zoro nods slowly, worried that _eggs_ is code for something just as bizarre as _pirates_. “Can I just have the eggs?” he attempts, already having a feeling that arguing against this straw-hatted catastrophe is a futile endeavour.

“Nu-uh,” the straw-hatted boy says - what a surprise. “I need someone like you on my crew.”

“I don’t even know who you are,” Zoro tries.

The boy snickers before announcing, “I’m going to travel the world!” which doesn’t offer Zoro any details beyond _cheerfully ambitious_ and - maybe - _insane_.

He sighs, headache reminding him at the last second not to shake his head. His skull throbs, pain building behind his eyes, but if his brain turns to mush at any point in the next five minutes, the culprit will probably be Luffy, and _not_ whatever decided to use his crown as target practice. “You don’t even know who _I_ am.”

“Eh?” Luffy replies, laughing a merry sound. “That doesn’t matter! Well - it _does_ , but I’m pretty sure -”

A lighter _clicks_ open in the kitchen; a frying pan _clacks_ against the stove.

Luffy’s head snaps around to the source of the sounds, expression morphing into a cheeky, but perhaps rightly panicked, _oh shit_. “HE SAYS _OKAY_ ,” he bellows at the top of his lungs, which is a bold-faced _lie_ as well as entirely unnecessary, and Zoro swears he goes _deaf_ for a moment as pain thunders through his head.

“Hey, _keep your voice down_ ,” a third person hisses, a wobbling warble of worry that drops quiet in comparison to Luffy’s bellow. A nervous titter follows, then a mutter of _oh whoops_ , and when Zoro comes back to himself once again, there are now _three_ people peering down at him.

“Are you okay?” the concerned person asks, a young man with a head of frizzy, black hair and a paint-splattered pair of dungarees. His nose is ridiculously long, and it only appears to get longer as he turns his head to say something to the lanky guy slouched at the back of the trio.

“Err,” Zoro says yet again, reaching up to feel _bandages_ wrapped around his crown. Maybe something _had_ hit him - something like the pavement, a fist, or this ludicrous reality Zoro finds himself in. “The hell happened? Where am I? Is that coffee?”

“Yep,” says lanky-guy, blond, swirly-browed, and narrowing his only visible eye as he nudges a tray between his flatmates. Luffy coos, eyes and nose tracking the meal like a floppy-eared spaniel, shaggy hair stuck out in all directions around a hopeful expression, but the paint-covered man elbows him into reconsidering.

“You’ll eat eggs, right?” the blond goes on, not giving Zoro much of a choice on the matter as he plonks the tray down. “Bacon’s off the menu, unfortunately, because _somebody_ -” A glower finishes the sentence, curled eyebrow dipped towards Luffy’s too-innocent smile, and Zoro glances between the flatmates, wondering what sort of twilight zone he has awoken to.

“S’kay,” he assures, guessing that Luffy’s earlier pandemonium in the kitchen is a frequent enough occurrence to warrant the reproach. The eggs are good - _really_ good - but it’s the coffee that Zoro chugs. “Don’t eat meat anyway.”

Luffy veers back as though he’s been _shot_ , and his squawk of denial is so vehemently offended that Zoro panic-snorts coffee straight up his nose. In the second it takes Luffy’s jaw (and head, and everything, really) to snap up from the ground, dungaree-guy breathes _oh no_ and lanky-guy mutters _nice_ , which is just as well because Zoro’s next choking cough is drowned by a scandalised shriek of, _YOU DON’T EAT MEAT?_

“Err,” is Zoro’s reply; rapidly becoming the most appropriate reply. “No?”

Luffy emits a garbled sound and clings onto lanky-guy’s legs, blubbering and scarlet-faced and looking quite a mess as he wails, _he doesn’t eat meat, Sanji, is the world going to end??? I DON’T WANT THE WORLD TO END._

“The world,” Sanji deadpans, eye rolling up as if to sigh _help me_. “Is not going to end.”

He shakes his flatmate away with a vigorous kick, and Luffy flops boneless onto the carpet and continues to blabber, _but what sort of crewmate doesn’t eat meat?_

“Is he - okay?” Zoro asks, unable to _not_ feel a little concerned for the guy, and the saner of the three flatmates exchange a glance.

“Oh yeah,” says dungaree-guy, curls bouncing as he nods. “He’ll be fine.”

“Guess you’re _crew_ too, huh?” Sanji adds, scowl pressed into a thin line. At his feet, Luffy’s snivelling earns him another nudge from Sanji’s toes, and Zoro almost inhales a piece of toast at the guy’s lavender-purple slippers. “That didn’t take long.”

“He’s getting faster,” the other agrees, nodding in what Zoro certainly hopes isn't sympathy. “I’m Usopp. This is Sanji - and this moron’s Luffy but you probably know that already. Who’re you?”

Zoro slurps the last of his coffee before introducing himself. “And I didn’t agree to be a part of anything,” he argues, even if he fears that Luffy’s grin has the power to rival the sun. Smiles _aside_ , the kid’s still pouting in the centre of their wonky circle, but now he seems to be trying to reach something under the sofa like a _puppy_.

God forbid this twit travel the world by himself.

“Well that’s the thing,” Usopp begins, chuckling nervously. “Agreeing doesn’t really come into it.”

Zoro must breathe _what_ for the two flatmates laugh in his face.

“Yeah, not at all,” Sanji says.

“Like, ever,” Usopp concludes.

“And he just straight-out asks everybody?” Zoro asks, wondering just how many people Luffy has “recruited” in this manner. It wouldn’t surprise him if this _were_ the case; he’s known Luffy for an entire ten minutes but he’s already certain that _conforming to the social norms_ isn’t a phrase in the boy’s dictionary.

Yet, Usopp laughs and waves his hand to dismiss the notion that their flatmate doesn’t have _any_ sense, which Zoro can only be grateful for. “God no,” the artist explains. “You have to meet a really specific set of requirements, or something.”

 _Or something_ , Zoro despairs, knowing he fits into that category. “You guys don’t know anything about me.”

“Well it takes a certain kind of idiot to get his head bashed in by that Morgan fellow,” Sanji argues, mouth twitching into a smirk. “Which Luffy dealt with for you, by the way. Left us to roll you off the sidewalk like a boulder of moss.”

“ _Moss_.”

“That Morg-guy had it coming,” Luffy grumbles from the floor, interrupting before Zoro can throw an insult about his _stupid dartboard brow_ back. Apparently having given up with stretching under the sofa, now Luffy lies there with a pout worthy pitying, and Zoro wants to both chuck a pillow at him and, for reasons he cannot explain, offer him the last of the eggs.

“I didn’t like him,” Luffy explains, sounding as though he's talking about the weather.

 _Is that_ _how all decisions are made here_ , Zoro thinks madly as Sanji and Usopp accept this reasoning without batting an eyelash. “Well - thanks then, I guess,” he says, still not much closer to figuring out what happened, but at least knowing now that _the other guy_ came off worse than he did. “Where are we?”

“‘Bout ten minutes’ walk from campus south,” Sanji replies, jabbing a thumb towards a wall. “You _are_ a student, right?”

“Yeah, my ID’s in my - wallet,” Zoro says, realising that he has nothing but pain and his crumbling sanity on hand. “Was I wearing a jacket?”

“Oh!” Usopp says, springing up. He almost tramples on Luffy as he does, but Luffy only squawks a laugh. “Yeah, I scrubbed it but it’s pretty ruined. Hang on, I think I put it -” Usopp dashes off through the house, only to return a moment later and pass over the blood-stained jacket. Zoro grumbles at the sight of it but fishes through the pockets anyway, relieved to find his wallet and keys, and not so relieved to find almost thirty missed calls and a text consisting entirely of question marks from his housemates.

“Fuck. Nami’s going to kill me.”

“Nami?” Luffy perks up, rolling over the carpet so that his bewildered expression can be seen by all. “Second year, Finance and Accounting?”

Zoro stops mass-deleting the texts to mirror Luffy’s expression back at him. “Yeah. You know each other?”

“She’s neat. And scary.”

“Small world,” Zoro agrees; Luffy has already proved himself to be the type of guy to know _everybody_. “Wait - _you_ don’t take Finance and -?”

Luffy laughs like that the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard, and Sanji, too, mutters _god forbid_. “Nah!” denies the straw-hatted kid - young man, really, not that Zoro would ever use those words to describe Luffy. “French and Spanish with a year abroad!”

That is, somehow, only slightly more believable.

“I like talking to people,” Luffy adds, and okay, that explains a _lot_. “You’re a second year too then?”

Zoro’s _err_ makes a return. “Yeah,” he says, and when Luffy blinks, clearly waiting for more, he feels his ears burn as they always do when he has to explain, “Maths and Physics. And a placement year too.”

“Maths and _Physics_?” Sanji blurts, which is what they _always_ blurt. “And you couldn’t work out the probability of angering Morgan as the _dumbest thing ever_ being - like - _one hundred percent_?”

Luffy howls with laughter, and Zoro feels his face _blaze_.

“Shut _up_ , that has nothing to do with -”

“No wait,” Sanji wheezes, holding up his hand as though Zoro is really in the mood to _stop_. “Don’t opposite forces attract? Your face and his fist -”

Usopp excuses himself from the room as though the open door will muffle the uproarious sound of his laughter, and Zoro hisses at them all to just _die_.

 

 

 

After dutifully swallowing a couple of painkillers and not-so-dutifully insisting that he’s _fine_ as he attempts to peel away the bandages, Zoro begs off sleeping away the afternoon on the couch and fumbles around for his shoes. Truthfully, the prospect of sleeping the day away does tempt him, but he’d rather be in his own home, on his own sofa, wearing the baggiest pair of sweatpants he owns - and anyway, lectures he can miss, but attendance is mandatory at workshops.

(Which is a shame).

“You gonna turn up with bandages around your head, moron?” Sanji asks, watching the green-haired mathematician shrug into his jacket , and that’s when Zoro grumbles _no_ and proceeds to tear away the wrappings and just _dare_ his skull to fall apart in his hands.

Luffy laughs and Usopp squawks ( _are you trying to kill yourself??_ ) but Zoro’s head remains firmly in place, so he considers that a win. The fact that he can’t recall any of the details of his encounter with Morgan is, perhaps, _not_ so much of a win, but Luffy offers a blow-by-blow account of the fight as he ambles down the street after Zoro. Unsure of how he should be feeling about this rubbery twig of a student unwittingly stepping all over Zoro’s pride in the process of clobbering Morgan into the ground, Zoro just hems-and-haws as they plod towards the university, Luffy bouncing and skipping and flailing all the while.

He’s not sure how he feels about joining Luffy’s “crew” either, and Zoro admits as such as the residential streets widen into the outskirts of their campus, the student-life bustle finally providing some normality to Zoro’s offbeat morning.

“Ah, why not? It’ll be cool! I wanna go and see _all the places_ , but it’s no fun by myself! With you, there’ll be six of us! I still need a musician, and maybe someone who knows all about other cultures and stuff, or someone who can fix things…”

 _What sort of crew is this_ , Zoro thinks, suppressing an incredulous stare as Luffy begins to count off his fingers, bending one forward with each thoughtful utterance. “Who else is there?” he asks, reasoning that Usopp and Sanji would make _three_ and _four_ , but clueless as to who constitutes the remaining two crewmembers.

Luffy’s expression lights up, his grin revealing a mouth of crooked, brilliant white teeth. “Chopper and Sanji and Usopp and Nami!” he answers, announcing the names with nothing short of reverence, and Zoro has to tug the straw-hatted boy before he trips straight over his flip-flops and into the road.

“ _Nami_?” Zoro echoes, eyebrows raising sharp and disbelieving. “Nami’s on your crew?”

“Yep!”

“ _Really_.”

“Yep!” Luffy says again, folding his arms behind his head. The strawberry-red of his waistcoat rides up as he does, and Zoro’s eyes drop involuntarily, his hands twitching as though to yank it back down. “She’s good with maps,” Luffy continues, oblivious to Zoro’s moment of ambivalence. “Usopp’s great at making things, and Sanji’s the best cook ever! What d’you like doing?”

“Sleeping,” Zoro grunts, an automatic attempt at warning away the buzzing extravert beside him. Never before has he met somebody so _bouncy_ , and never before has anybody’s pout had the power to make him admit, “And kenjutsu, I guess. I grew up in a dojo.”

Luffy’s eyes widen to an impossible glee, and he laughs triumphantly in the face of Zoro’s grumble. “Then you can be my swordsman!” he declares, adding _this is amazing_ in a childish coo.

Sanji’s silent plea for help now makes perfect sense, and Zoro sighs. “What use would I be when travelling the world, huh?” he asks, trying not to think about their crew crashing through the continents and deeming a swordsman as _necessary_.

Luffy’s argument is _you’d be really cool_ and that’s - that’s not -

“That’s not a _use_ ,” Zoro splutters, and Luffy’s smile threatens to blind him as his hollering had almost deafened him before. _Unstoppable_ is definitely an appropriate adjective for the language student, and Zoro is quickly learning that Luffy’s will is not to be denied.

“Yes it is!” Luffy insists. “It is if I say so!” And he sounds as though he knows that even the ocean’s waves would subside at his command: maybe he is a traveller at heart, born to chase the horizon and challenge the sun, and maybe he was a pirate, once, if past-lives are to be believed.

Zoro’s never been one for the ocean romance, but he cannot help but laugh at the _captain_ of his motley crew. “All right, fine, whatever. Sheesh, sorry for arguing.”

“No you’re not,” Luffy laughs.

 _Good god yes he is_.

“Hey, hey, gimme your number,” Luffy goes on, fishing through his shorts for a mobile. He's not even wearing a backpack, so how he's prepared for class, Zoro has no idea. “You’re nakama now! Are you on Facebook?”

“Everybody’s on Facebook,” Zoro sighs, begrudgingly offering his contact details. The university crowd begins to thicken around them, the end of a period rolling into a hasty start of the next.

Zoro _shoos_ his new, kind-of friend with a grumbled, “Now scram, idiot, I’ve gotta get to class.”

“Hey, I’m not an idiot! I’m the captain!” Luffy whines, but even as he does, gleefully bouncing away like an ping-pong ball, he contradicts himself by tripping over the curb.

“Those things are not mutually exclusive,” Zoro calls, shaking his head in despair.

Luffy hollers a laugh from the distance, arms flailing over his hat, and Zoro waves back despite himself before realising that he is well and truly _fucked_.

He only gets _more fucked_ when he decides that ducking into the nearest campus cafe to simultaneously nurse his returning headache with caffeine _and_ avoid his flatmates is a brilliant idea, only to get as far as the queue before noticing two of said flatmates watching with hawk-like eyes. Zoro’s mutter of _bollocks_ does nothing to save him from their womanly intuition; within seconds, Nami has launched straight out of her seat and seized his arm, hauling his hulking, almost-six-foot, bodybuilding mass like a disobedient puppy to their table.

Rebecca only slurps her smoothie with a stony-hearted smirk.

“Where have you _been_?” Nami demands, inspecting the bump on his head with a critical eye. “If you say _accident and emergency_ , I _will_ hit you.”

“Counter-intuitive,” Zoro grumbles, scowling as though this will ever be enough to encourage Nami to relent.

“Don't get smart with me.”

Wisely - or perhaps unwisely, he still isn’t sure - Zoro ignores that remark. “‘Lo Rebecca,” he says instead, turning to his other flatmate. “Nami didn't cause too much trouble last night, did she?”

“Excuse _you_ ,” Nami snaps.

Rebecca laughs. “We're glad you're all right,” she says, tipping her smoothie towards Nami as though to say, _both of us_. “Were you going to buy a coffee?”

“Depends if I've gotta pay for it,” Zoro replies, nodding towards their fuming, red-headed flatmate. Nami only ever pays for his things if she wants something in return, but judging from the sheer number of angry texts she sent him last night, Zoro doubts she'll even be generous enough to do that ever again.

“I'm happy to pay,” Rebecca insists, tidying her candy-pink braid over her shoulder as she stands, and Zoro is grateful that at least _one_ of his housemates is kind at the heart right up until she plonks a neon green smoothie down in front of him and revels in his cringe.

“Thanks Bec,” he drawls, jabbing the smoothie with a straw and glowering as it churns like marshlands and swamps.

“You're welcome,” she says, sharing a too-innocent smile with Nami.

 _Dammit_ , Zoro thinks, vowing to never house with girls again. Deciding to screw the consequences in favour of pacifying his headache, he takes a slurp of the god-awful smoothie and his friends laugh as his expression twists in disgust.

“So where _did_ you end up to have your head beaten in by a baseball bat?” Nami asks idly, tone vacant of the concern that Rebecca had shown.

Zoro hadn’t expected anything else from his money-grabbing housemate, and he scowls at the implication that his wayward navigation was the reason for his injury. “It wasn't a baseball bat,” he grumbles, still drinking the smoothie just to spite them. “And I _wasn't_ lost.”

“Never said you _were_ ,” Nami retorts, a twinkle in her eye. “But that's what usually happens when you disappear for hours on end, isn’t it?”

 _Fuck off_ , Zoro grumbles, instead of admitting _yes_. “What’re you - my keeper?”

“Your friends,” Rebecca replies, her soft insistence making Zoro feel a _little_ bad for snapping, but Nami’s snort quickly changes his mind.

“Heaven knows I'm practically your _sister_ ,” she says, daring him to argue with a glare. “But then that's basically the same thing.”

Zoro rolls his eyes, feeling the tips of his ears burn an incriminating red. “Fine, whatever. I got into a fight and ended up crashing at a student house. Nothing to write home about.”

“ _Really_.”

“‘Cept that he was a friend of yours,” Zoro admits, poking his straw at Nami’s disbelieving smirk as she rests her chin in one hand. “You know a _Luffy_?”

She blinks, eyebrows knitting together as she sits back in her chair, staring at him as though the extra few inches between them will assist with deciphering whether he is telling the truth. “ _Monkey D. Luffy_?”

“Yeah, I guess. Hang on.” He checks his newest Facebook friend request, and Nami leans over with a boggling expression as Luffy’s surname is confirmed.

“Is he the one who has a habit of picking up strays?” Rebecca asks, and Zoro bristles at the notion of being a _stray_.

“He’s going to travel the world,” Nami says, which isn't exactly an answer to Rebecca’s question, but it _does_ lay Zoro’s doubts to rest.

“So you _are_ on his crew,” he says, raising one stern eyebrow at Nami, and in reply she blinks, confused for the moment it takes her to catch on.

“Oh he didn’t get you too?”

Zoro nods, and Nami shakes her head sympathetically. “Didn’t really have much of a choice,” Zoro clarifies, as he's sure she understands. “There’s something kinda undeniable about him.”

Rebecca sucks up her next mouthful of smoothie with a squelching breath of shock and almost inhales the drink. She splutters over the sound of Nami’s quiet _oh?_ but there is nothing she can do to conceal Nami’s smirk.

“ _Undeniable_ ,” parrots the Finance student, eyebrows prompting him to continue.

“Yeah,” Zoro says, shrugging a _what?_ Absently, he swirls the straw through his drink, listening to it slopping around the cup. “I dunno. He’s weird, but I like ‘im. I guess it was kinda like that YA thing - you know, stupidly cheesy _love at first sight_ and -”

Rebecca shoots him an incredulous look, and even Nami, no nonsense, I’ll-take-anything-you-throw-at-me Nami, snorts her next strawful of soda up her nose.

“Not _that_ kind of love,” Zoro stresses, praying that his ears are burning like he imagines they are. “Like – like I’d follow this idiot to the edge of the world if he asks. Which he has, I guess. Not that he _asked_ , really…”

 _Luffy_ and _asking_ are probably two events that will never coincide, the extremes of the world that will never let them collide.

“And you... met him last night?” Nami blurts, eyes wide and staring at her “brother” as though he's been replaced by a one of those outrageously proportioned, hyper-sexualised anime figurines in skimpy clothing. “I would’ve thought you, of all people, would be resistant to Luffy’s charm.”

“Err -” Zoro tries.

“How hard did he hit his head?” Rebecca breathes, sharing a boggling look with Nami.

“ _Um_ –” Zoro tries again, only to be interrupted by his flatmates once more.

"Why can’t all the cute boys say things like that to me,” Rebecca sighs, and Nami laughs loud enough to startle the people at the next table.

“ _Gay_.”

“He is, isn’t he?” Rebecca grumbles, eyeing the last of her smoothie dejectedly, as though Zoro’s sexuality has any effect on how it tastes.

Nami offers Rebecca a _there there, cheer up_ pat. “Zoro’s a terrible example of _boys who love girls that could sling them over their shoulders_.”

“Hey,” Zoro interjects, still trying to challenge his existence as the third wheel. “I’m right here.”

“Still gay,” Nami says, which is true enough for Zoro to wonder why he even bothers arguing.

He huffs, crossing his arms and trying to regain some control over this conversation - over his _life._ “Rebecca could carry me up a goddamn mountain and I still wouldn’t want to date her, okay.”

The girls stare at him, and it’s the terrible look that Zoro has come to recognise as their _can you believe that men are real_ expression. Rebecca follows it with laugh, and that does wonders for encouraging Zoro to bash his head against the table.

“Err,” he says, an apology catching in his throat. “I meant that in a – nice way.”

He may as well have said _I am stupider than a potato_ for the wicked smile that his friends share.

“If Luffy carried him up a mountain, he might be interested though,” Nami laughs, quirking an eyebrow at Rebecca’s valiant attempt at stifling her giggling. “Hiking’s a good bonding exercise, yeah?”

“ _Fuck_ _off_ -”

“He’s not denying it,” Rebecca notes, and as Zoro groans, scrubbing a hand over the blistering scarlet of his face, Nami just has to quote:

“ _To the edge of the world_.”

 

 

 

Somehow - and really, with Luffy, _somehow_ is the best Zoro’s _ever going to get_ \- Zoro finds himself kind-of-but-not-really inviting the straw-hatted student over one evening that week, and Luffy kind-of-but-most- _definitely_ invites himself over when Zoro realises what’s happened and tries to backtrack. Fortunately for Zoro, all three of his flatmates have plans that evening, so it is somewhat begrudgingly that he gives Luffy a time and address with promises not to bail, and yet he still manages to jump three foot into the air when Luffy hammers on the front door.

“Hey, hey, Zoro?” comes the call from outside, the bob of Luffy’s straw hat just visible through the clouded glass. “Zoroooo? Are you in there?”

Despite almost knocking himself out three times in his haste to reach the door (and wouldn't that be ironic), Zoro does manage to get the door open before Luffy resorts to hollering down the street or worse - like climbing in through a window or breaking the lock in the handle.

Zoro wouldn't put it past him.

His inability at recalling just how he came to invite Luffy over seems to extend to an inability to remember that he doesn't have much food in, so as Luffy makes himself comfortable and begins to prattle on about _the Strawhats_ , Zoro mumbles something about _his laptop_ and _takeout_ , if only to escape what can only be an _initiation_ into a pirate crew.

“Just…” Zoro says, motioning for Luffy to _sit_. The boy crosses his legs up onto the sofa and clutches his calves like a child, and Zoro is helpless not to feel dread. “Stay there for a sec, okay?”

His room is too empty to be considered untidy, so Zoro scoops up his laptop and wallet in record timing. When he descends the stairs and tumbles breathless, windswept and wide-eyed into the room, on the look-out for his flatmates, Luffy is _not_ _there_ \- not in the living room, and not even raiding the kitchen - and Zoro swears high and mighty as a _crash_ thunders down from upstairs. Highly strung, wobbling laughter follows, a _whoops!_ cackling through the house, and Zoro vaults back up the stairs and falls into Vivi’s bedroom.

Luffy is there - of _course_ he is - and his hand still hovers in the air from where his clumsy manhandling has caused the gigantic, yellow-billed animatronic duck - Carue, metal and feathers and _riding saddle_ and all, Vivi’s current project and _pride and joy_ \- to collapse into a heap at his feet.

“That dinosaur wasn't very sturdy,” Luffy bemoans, glowering at the machine and the DO NOT TOUCH sign still looped around its neck as though they are to blame.

Zoro’s mouth opens - and then it shuts again.

“Maybe we can cellotape it back together?” Luffy suggests. He kneels down to poke at one of Carue’s _fully-retractable_ wings, and a vision of Vivi’s godawful _fury_ flashes across Zoro’s eyes. With a shout of _DON’T!!_ Zoro snatches Luffy’s wrist and drags him away from the mechanical heap, and one of Carue’s limbs creaks ominously from across the room.

“Cellotape is _not_ going to fix that!” he snarls, still clasping Luffy’s wrist high above the boy’s shoulders. “Vivi’s meant to be using that in her performance!”

“Performance?”

Zoro takes a terrible breath, desperately trying not to _freak the fuck out_. “Theatrical. _Shit_. She's gonna be _pissed_.”

“Oh,” says Luffy, fixing Carue’s collapse with an uncharacteristically serious look, dark hair now framing a still, grim expression. “It was important to her?”

Perplexed but gratified by Luffy’s abrupt calm, Zoro shoves a hand through his hair. A panic sweat has broken out across his forehead and he grimaces, letting Luffy’s wrist go to wipe his palms down his trousers. “She designed it herself. How the _fuck_ am I going to tell her?”

Luffy hums, cocking his head as though he needs to shift his brain to get it to think. “We could fix it?”

“You know anything about building this stuff?”

“Usopp could!” he says brightly, folding his arms up behind his head. Enthusiasm returning, he hops around Vivi’s bedroom to consider the animatronic contraption, and then dazzles Zoro with a triumphant smile. “Yeah, I bet he could! He could come round!”

Unsure what other choice they have at the moment, Zoro shrugs his consent. Vivi is his flatmate _and_ his friend, and she's downright terrifying when her temper boils to rage. Zoro wonders if Vivi sometimes forgets that Carue isn’t _alive_ for the care and attention she gives it. “All right, whatever. Tell ‘im I'll buy him pizza if he doesn't fuck this up.”

There may as well be stars in Luffy’s eyes for how brightly they shine. “Oooh, pizza?”

Zoro rolls his eyes and steers the boy towards the stairs, careful not to jostle Carue any further than it has been. “What makes you think you deserve any now?”

“Aww, but I _like_ pizza,” Luffy whines, adopting a pitiful kicked-dog expression.

Zoro tries really hard not to look - he really does. “That's not going to work,” he mutters; only, the puppy-eyes intensify and Zoro grumbles a curse, feeling like a fool.

“Fuck’s sake. _Fine_.”

If Usopp’s bragging is anything to be believed (and Zoro really isn't sure from the snippets of breathless rambling he caught from the phone), he should be able to fix Carue no problem. Zoro certainly hopes so, already planning on pinning a IT WAS ME post-it note to Luffy’s forehead if Vivi returns home early, and so, not even half an hour later, Usopp is lugging a humongous toolbox in through the front door.

“I thought you were an arts student?” Zoro muses, showing the curly-haired man where the ruin of Luffy’s boisterousness is lying. Zoro’s _please fix this fuckup_ expression must be crystal clear, for Usopp hadn’t even bothered to enquire about pizza before zipping up the stairs.

“Aha, everybody does!” Usopp declares, twiddling a spanner proudly. “Painting’s just a hobby. I do Engineering, actually.”

(“USOPP’S PAINTINGS ARE GREAT,” comes Luffy’s holler from the bottom of the stairs).

“Bless you,” Zoro mumbles.

Usopp laughs. “ _You're_ a Maths and Physics student,” he says, waggling the spanner like an accusing finger.

Zoro groans, conceding to that one. “Don't remind me.”

From downstairs, there is a rumble like an animal, perhaps a shout or the hunger of a bear, and then Luffy calls up, “ZORO. PIZZA?”

“I think that was a question,” Usopp provides, mouth twitching into a smile at Zoro’s exasperated sigh. “You'll get used to him, don't worry.”

Somehow, Zoro doubts that, but he offers Usopp an acquiescent grunt and trudges down to the living room. Luffy is half-sunk into one of the sofas with Zoro’s laptop opened across his knees, and though he has miraculously _guessed_ the password and _let himself into_ the laptop, Zoro can only be thankful that at least he hasn't wandered off again.

He does make a point to steal his laptop back though. “What sorta pizza d’you want?” he asks, unsurprised to find multiple takeaway websites already opened in tabs across the screen. That Luffy hasn't jumped ahead and ordered anything and everything is a marker of _some_ restraint, Zoro supposes.

“MEAT.”

“Okay, that was a dumb question,” Zoro breathes, scrolling through the page to find the meatiest option available. For himself, he orders a spicy vegetarian, and then after adding Usopp’s choice, he decides not to risk under-feeding the glutton and doubles Luffy’s order.

The web page asks if he has any comments to add to his order, and it is only Zoro’s tremendous strength of will that prevents him from typing HELP ME.

 

 

 

The term continues on regardless of its students’ struggles, and Luffy continues to be an relentless presence in Zoro’s life. _Undeniable_ really is the most adept word to describe the young man, but _impossible_ is steadily rising to a close second. Through hardly _any_ effort, Luffy seems to secure the friendship and loyalty of those around him: maybe it’s an extrovert thing, Zoro wonders, or maybe there’s just _something_ about Luffy that sees the good in people, that yearns for it, cares for it, and then when a time comes to let those people go, they would never think about leaving.

(Zoro _can’t_ be the only one - right?)

Despite sharing no lectures, hardly any free time, and walking in opposite directions from campus to get home, Zoro bumps into Luffy a _lot_ \- in coffee shops, the library, about campus, in town. With the realisation that he cannot get away, he starts to spend the evenings at Luffy’s house, playing video games, bemoaning assignments and, occasionally, actually working, and by the time the Christmas holidays is but days away, even Sanji has not-really-joked about getting Zoro a key.

There’s nothing but _support_ to be heard from Luffy’s flatmates, and considering Zoro isn’t _entirely_ sure what it is that they’re supporting, he high-tails it straight out of the house in the midst of Sanji’s next pancake-flip.

Ending up at the sport hall had not been Zoro’s intention, but as he has been a frequent face here since Freshers’ Week back in year one, the receptionist just waves him in when he turns out empty pockets for his pass. Rebecca, on the other hand, is _not_ so kind when she drags him sweaty and _stupid_ off a treadmill and throws a pair of focus mitts at his head, but she does, at least, give him time to sort out his thoughts before punching them out of him.

“Do I need to set Nami on anybody?” is the first thing she asks, as though she, herself, isn’t capable of dropping a six foot man onto his knees.

“God no,” Zoro says, scowling at his flatmate over the bright red fabric of the mitt. “I’d never hear the end of it.”

Rebecca’s glove _smacks_ into Zoro’s palm. “The end of what?”

“How _stupid I am_?” he hazards, already hearing Nami berating him in the back of his mind.

Another _smack_. This time Zoro feels the strike all the way up his arm. “You’re not stupid.”

 _You’re a man_ , Vivi would add here, _there_ is _a fine difference_.

 _Yeah, you’re stupid,_ Nami would say.

“Thanks Bec,” Zoro says, mouth twitching into a smile. “But she's probably right this time. _Not_ that I said that.”

Rebecca smiles back, plait slapping against her shoulder as she punches again. “Nami’s _always_ right. What's bothering you? Is this about Luffy?”

Zoro huffs, not bothering to grace that with an answer. Is he that transparent, he wonders, or is this his decision to live with three girls coming back to haunt him?

Maybe he _should_ get a key. (Maybe he should _move in_ ).

“You spend more time with him than with us - which is _fine_ ,” Rebecca assures as he opens his mouth to explain. “It's nice. Cute.”

“Cute.”

“Nami’s proud of her little brother.”

Letting her knock the living daylights out of him would at least save Zoro from this embarrassment. “ _Rebecca_.”

She laughs, eyes bright with mirth and face flushed a sweaty scarlet. “Oh, I'm sorry Zoro. You're just so easy to tease. You _were_ at Luffy’s, though? You didn't ditch him, did you?”

Now very glad that he _hadn't_ thrown the focus mitts aside, Zoro swallows hard, the burning tips of his ears saying it all. “Um.”

“I _should_ hit you.”

But she won't, Zoro knows, not even in jest, but he still cannot help but track the sweep of her boxing gloves as she scrubs sweat from her brow. Rebecca defaults to kind words and support whereas Nami is prone to tease, but maybe Zoro should have sought Vivi out for advice, he realises, as he recalls Rebecca’s undefeated streak in the ring.

“He's probably worried,” she muses, fist-bumping her gloves together as though privy to his thoughts.

Zoro resists the urge to face-palm with the focus mitt. “I'm not _two_.”

“No, you're almost _twenty-two_ and that's just as bad. At least two year olds are _honest_ about their feelings.”

“What feelings.”

She _does_ hit him this time, but lightly, it should be noted, hardly a _bop_ on a nose that still has him reeling back. “ _Exactly_. He's your friend, you should talk to him.”

Zoro’s nose scrunches and he rubs it absently, feeling the tip burn. No doubt it complements the rest of his face though, expression of wildfire that reluctantly continues to blaze.

“ _Hopeless_ ,” Rebecca sighs, loud enough that she may as well be addressing the entire male population at large. It's probably something she's picked up from her friendship with Nami, and Zoro is helpless not to dread the idea of living with _two_ Namis. “ _Talk to him_ or I'll get the others involved.”

 _The others_ means both Nami _and_ Vivi, which is a force to be reckoned with, that's for sure.

“You wouldn't.”

 _Yeah?_ the flick of her plait over one shoulder seems to taunt. “Try me.”

Which is how, not even a week later, Zoro finds himself at _Thriller Bark_ at stupid o’clock in the morning, a shot of _something or other_ in one hand, and Nami’s metaphorical lease tied unyieldingly around the other.

“Oh _relax_. You'll only be outing yourself to strangers,” she had said, yanking him out of their front door only hours before. Rebecca had lobbed his wallet and keys out of the window, and Vivi had thrown a box of condoms. Nami had laughed so hard that her makeup _should_ have been ruined were it not fucking made of _magic_.

Not only is Thriller Bark a _nightclub_ , a bubbly, hazardous, punch-drunk place that Zoro avoided at all costs, this is also a _society social event_ , and one which he has frankly been blackmailed into attending.

 _You need to sort out your life_ , Nami had warned once Rebecca had made true of her promise, much to Zoro’s despair, _or I'll do it for you_.

Apparently, this involves dragging Zoro to an LGBT+ social for the first time (and goddamn _last_ time if he has anything to say about it). Truthfully, he _had_ mentioned to Nami way back when he symbolically crashed his way out of the closet that he fully intended to go at _some point_ , but clearly that was one of the most horrendous decisions of Zoro’s short life.

( _Get him to make a friend_ , had been Rebecca’s suggestion. _Socials are good for that_ ).

 _Who goes to a club to make friends,_ had been the last of Zoro’s protests, realising that he was fighting a losing game.

To that, Vivi had chucked his never-worn and supposedly buried deep, deep down into the wardrobe (at least, until his flatmates went _scrounging for it_ ) demisexual pride t-shirt at him.

 _Purple’s a good look on you_ , Rebecca had insisted.

 _No, it's really, really not_ , Nami had laughed, wrestling him into it anyway).

 

 

by [subtlyimpulsive](http://subtlyimpulsive.tumblr.com/post/150202003920/my-half-of-opreversebang-with-oraftel-it-was-so)

At least he has alcohol, Zoro reasons, eyeing the bottom of his glass dubiously. Just _how_ much he has drunk is a little hazy, but the occasional tug from Nami keeps him trapped in the present, strobic, multicoloured laser beam lights and bass-heavy music and all.

All things considered, at least vodka shots have never betrayed him.

Neither has the jacket stubbornly zipped right up to his chin. Forgot the fact that this is a LGBT+ social - he'll _out_ himself to the society as far as not-heterosexual, but that's it. Zoro doesn't care much for labels anyway, and he's only used his own since drunk-grousing at Nami and having her introduce him to the idea.

(At least identifying himself as _demi_ implies he's not the only one in the world).

(He doesn't care much for fitting in or comparing to other people, but at least it's only his hair that makes him a freak).

Zoro downs the shot, throat buzzing at the taste. He is not a _get to know people_ person and clubs are not places in which he thrives, but at least the alcohol is cheap.

At least Nami’s the only person here that he knows.

“Hey, hey, it's Zoro! HEY ZORO.”

He slams the shot glass onto the bar and swears he feels it crack in his hand. Through the sweaty, screaming crowd comes the shout, a holler drawn long and amazed over the deafening sounds of the club, and Zoro whirls, stumbles in a drunken mess, and wedges himself between the barstools just as a straw hat comes bouncing through the club.

_No way in hell._

“ZOROOOOO.”

Luffy slides himself up to the bar with such velocity that he practically rebounds against it, but this seems not deter him from rivalling the strobic club lights with a smile. He is flushed only from his perpetual happiness, expression bright and merry but sober whereas Zoro’s is probably _not_ , but level of inebriation aside, they both seem equally astonished to encounter the other here.

Nami, Zoro decides, is a conniving _witch_.

“ZORO, it _is_ you, I thought it was you! You’ve never been here before! It's pretty awesome, right? I didn't think clubs were your _thing_ but are you here with the social too? This is so cool!”

Zoro would despair that _he's_ _definitely not drunk enough for this_ , except that he most probably _is_.

“Nami dragged me here,” he grumbles, noticing that she hasn't come by to check that he hasn't fled in a while. Perhaps that's just as well - she and Luffy together would be a house on fire, that's for sure. “I don't like clubs.”

“Nahh, I didn't think so!” Luffy laughs, wiggling onto the seat. He's wearing his usual shorts and shirt combo, so at least Zoro isn't the only one in this hell-hole who hasn't made an effort. “I'm here with the LGBT social - and my brother! Well, one of them anyway. Sabo’s not into clubbing either so we left him with that Charlie what's-his-face’s book about the towns.”

Zoro needs another drink. “Not Dickens’ _A Tale of Two Cities_?”

“Yeah! That one! D’you read a lot too? Sabo’s always reading but he says that PhDs have a lot of reading anyway and that's _boring_. Me and Ace like parties a lot more. The last LGBT social had SO MUCH pizza and it was _great_ but I didn't see you there either - d’you not go to socials?”

Truly, what can Zoro say to that information dump other than, “Um.”

(He hopes Luffy doesn’t catch on and ask where he falls on the spectrum, because Zoro fears he’ll say something dumb like _near you_ ).

“You _should_ ,” Luffy goes on, apparently content to hold both sides of the conversation. He seems not to have any qualms about declaring himself LGBT+ and blathering on about his private life, but this doesn't surprise Zoro in the slightest. “Socials are awesome and meeting people is too! Hey, I should introduce you to Ace! He and Sabo are only here for a few days but - HEY ACE.”

 _Oh god_.

“WHAT,” comes the replying bellow, and Zoro weighs his fuzzy-headed drunkenness against vaulting over the bar and making a quick escape as a lean and entirely shirtless man barrels his way through the crowd.

Luffy waves him over, and though their physical similarities end at dark hair and lazy smiles, this must be Ace, Zoro concludes, just as the aforementioned brother plonks himself down at the stool on Luffy’s other side.

“Ace, Ace, this is Zoro! He's my friend.”

Ace laughs, freckled cheeks scrunching up into a smile. He shares Luffy’s air of approachability - and his love of hats, Zoro notes. “Lu, I leave you alone for _five minutes_ …”

“Nooo,” Luffy whines, sticking his tongue out. “He was _already_ my friend. Zoro’s nakama - and crew!”

Surprise flashes like fire across Ace’s face, and Zoro can only wonder if he has been poorly judged - which is understandable, he supposes, given his green haired and gruff demeanor, and his occasional slurred grunt instead of words.

“Crew, huh? Nice to meet you then, I'm Portgas D. Ace.” He sticks out his hand for Zoro to shake. “Sorry you got lumped with my little brother. I know he's a handful.”

“Err,” Zoro says, unsure on how to reply. That _does_ seem to be the default to Luffy and everything about him, but he shakes the offered hand anyway. “Roronoa Zoro. And no problem.”

 _It's not like I had much of a choice_ , he doesn't say, but Ace laughs because he's probably guessed that already.

“I'm right here,” Luffy huffs, chin stuck to the bar-top between the two men. All Zoro can see of his expression is his hat, but it hardly seems to make a difference.

“What can I say?” Ace teases, pinching his brother’s cheek. “Gotta look out for my little bro, haven't I?”

“‘M not little.”

“ _Which_ one of us crams himself into the kitchen cupboards?”

“There's _food_ ,” Luffy claims, failing to argue the point at all.

Ace’s only response is a practiced, “Uh-huh,” which Zoro understands on every level imaginable.

They barter for a little longer, Zoro pitching in occasionally with a rather limited, alcoholic vocabulary, but for the most part casting longing gazes at his empty glass and letting the brothers chat. Luffy is no less subdued in Ace’s presence, but there is something different in the way he talks, grumbling and snickering like the mischievous younger sibling that he is, rather than declaring his bold affections and protectiveness over the people he has gathered as _crew_.

Eventually, the thundering bass of the music pulls Ace back into the crowd, although Luffy begs off another dance by sticking himself to Zoro’s side. Zoro isn't _quite_ sure how to interpret Ace’s rising eyebrow, so he pretends not to have seen it even as Luffy’s hat tickles under his chin.

“I'll catch you around then, hey Zoro?” the elder brother says, smirking even as the name falls unfamiliar and clunky from his tongue. He clamps Luffy on the shoulder as he goes to weave back into the club chaos, and then offers a softer, almost more genuine smile. “Don't let this one walk all over you, but look after him for me, would you?”

“Too late for that,” Zoro grumbles, and even he isn't sure which part of Ace’s question it is that he refers.

“Oh, and Luffy?” Ace reappears in a flash, considering his brother with an oddly firm, yet cheeky, smile. “For the love of god, _text Sabo or I_ if you're not coming back tonight, yeah?”

Jägerbomb, Zoro decides. He needs a jägerbomb right now.

“Aye, aye!” Luffy replies, saluting his brother’s fussing. “Sabo won't be mad, right?”

“Lu,” Ace laughs. “Sabo will be _hell-bent_.”

This doesn't seem to faze Luffy at all, and so Ace leaves with a rowdy _catch you later Zoro!_ that sounds - _somehow_ \- as though he has absolutely no doubt that this will occur.

Zoro orders that jägerbomb.

Luffy orders a pint of orange juice _and that's the god-forsaken difference between them, isn't it?_

“You said Nami’s here right?” Luffy begins after chugging half the drink, face lighting up so rapidly that Zoro is helpless not to worry about the alcoholic content of the juice. “I should go find her! I met her at one of these socials too; it was a treasure hunt and she was _scary good_ and it was _awesome_! And the next time, _we_ were the ones who had to hide the treasure and no one could find any of it ‘cause Nami knew all the best places and I could get to them and she's my navigator - did I tell you?”

The burn of the jägerbomb down Zoro’s throat stops his curse of _oh god_. “Yeah,” he says instead, wincing a little as the Red Bull kicks in. He can appreciate liqueur as much as the next man, but the sickly sweetness of energy drinks is not usually to his taste. There’s no doubt in his mind that he’ll need the fizzy punch to survive Luffy’s boundless energy, and as the straw-hatted student restarts his babbling tirade, Zoro throws caution to the wind and orders another.

“You've not met everyone yet, have you? Chopper was the one who patched you up aaaaaages ago, but you were unconscious so you missed all his fussing. He's cute and _real smart_. But he doesn't like places like this either - I can't believe I found you here!”

Paying close attention to the hand-waving accompanying Luffy’s rambling, Zoro fears that the boy is going to clamp his shoulder like Ace had before, so he leans away from the boy’s exaggerated motions just in time to escape the contact. Luffy almost tips straight off of his stool as a result, but if he noticed Zoro’s apprehension, he only laughs as his orange juice sloshes all over the bar.

He goes on, unfazed by the unsuccessful endeavour. “Hey, hey, you should come back to ours afterwards ‘cause we never did get to give you that key. We got it made for you, so you want it, right? Sanji got really grumpy when you missed out on pancakes and I wanted to call you but Usopp said I shouldn't. So I didn't. But now you're here! I'm glad you're here, I missed you.”

Zoro’s mouth gapes open so for long that he figures he may as well take another shot. The second jägerbomb hits harder than the first and he cringes, eyes scrunching together as he shoves the shot-glass away, hands already shaking.

“Err,” he tries, wondering if his voice is as wobbly as the rest of his body, sugar and liqueur crashing through him. “Yeah. I do - want the key. I - err - I think, yeah.”

(No, he’s not actually sure that he has the capacity to _think_ anymore).

“Great! And if you’re coming round ours later, then I won’t have to text Ace and Sabo! They’re kinda scary when they’re worried,” Luffy says with a laugh, gurgling into his juice.

Zoro stills, the implications of Ace’s parting words tolling over the psychedelic buzz in his head. Luffy’s _out_ tonight - metaphorically _and_ for a good time - and the thought that there may be a _somebody_ wondering where Luffy has skipped off to (or god forbid a _potential somebody_ ) sparks a panic inside of Zoro that burns hot and high in his chest, blazing like the jägerbomb all the way up to his ears.

“Where else - where else were you gonna be?” he hears himself asking, trying for _casual_ despite the vicious twist in his gut and the clench of his throat coughing around the lingering sting of the alcohol. “You here with someone?”

“Just you!” Luffy replies - and no, wait, that hadn’t been what Zoro meant. “The society guys are neat but I like spending time with you more!”

_What the hell they’re back to this topic._

“The - err - the LGBT guys?”

Luffy nods, fingers tapping against the pint glass. “Uh-huh. You’ve met them all, right?”

“Briefly,” Zoro admits, thinking back to the pre-drinks on campus and shuddering. Nami would _so_ owe him if he wasn’t already in debt all the way to his ears. “I’m not really - _out_ out. My flatmates think meeting other people like me’ll do me good, or something.”

“But Zoro’s not very social,” Luffy chimes, and Zoro winces at that harsh truth. “That’s okay! I can be social enough for the both of us!”

“Not sure that’s how it works.”

“Why not? Zoro doesn’t have to be social if he doesn’t wanna, and I like meeting people so we both win! _Hey_ , we could - like - _tag-team_. I’m ace and I’m not fussed about all that sex _stuff_ , but if you wanna get laid then maybe we could -”

“Me too - I’m ace,” Zoro blurts, not entirely sure he wants to know where Luffy’s train of thought is leading. A flush is still burning on his cheeks, his head whoozy from the music and the alcohol, and it takes him a moment to realise what he has said. He can usually hold his drink but something about tonight clearly has thrown a spanner in the works of sobriety - it's Luffy, no doubt, and Zoro coughs as a pair of eyes _dazzle_ at him, the boy’s straw hat bouncing with glee.

(Luffy - or the jägerbombs).

“You’re ace _too_?”

“Demi,” he corrects; _drunk_ , he should have said, feeling bubbly and stupid. “Probably. My shirt seems to think so.”

Luffy’s eyes dart down, a befuddled expression taking in the thick, sweltering fabric of Zoro’s jacket. “Eh? Your -?”

Zoro unzips the jacket and Luffy laughs so hard that even the bouncer glances their way.

“It’s Nami’s fault,” Zoro says by way of explanation, after hissing at the boy to _shooosh_. _Nami’s fault_ covers most things in Zoro’s life, and Luffy muffles his snickering into his drink as the jacket is rezipped to hide the neon purple shirt.

The mention of their cunning navigator soon has Luffy bellowing back over the dance music. “Oh, Nami’s here! You said so! D’you think she’ll know where I can get one? Come on, come on, let's go find her!”

Luffy chugs the last of his drink and slams the glass down with a gasp, before springing down from the stool and rounding on Zoro like the hyperactive puppy he is. The realisation that he is about to be _forcibly removed_ from his seat has Zoro digging his heels into the bar, but Luffy’s feet are a hurricane and his will is the ocean tide, and his eyes are the hopeful dawn that Zoro can only abide.

“Wait,” he grumbles anyway, more to maintain his gruff demeanour than any heartfelt protest. Granted, he _would_ rather remain sulking in this chair with another pint to keep him company, but tackling the club mayhem with Luffy’s company definitely won’t be the worst of all possible outcome of this night. “Hang on -”

Luffy winds his arms around one of Zoro’s and drags into him the club, and while that’s _not_ what Zoro meant either, there is certainly nothing he can do about it as his arguments are swallowed by the bass-dropping rave.

The music continues on long into the morning; the night doesn’t stop, sweat, adrenaline, and alcohol slamming into the early sunlight and cursing it away, and Zoro swears he can still hear the electronic soundtrack of his biggest regret as he peels open his eyelids at some god-awful hour the same day. Dazed and nauseous but well-accustomed to the tacky interior of Luffy’s living room, Zoro slaps a hand over his mouth as he rolls on the sofa, feet shoving one of the pillows to the floor. He groans and heaves himself up, his sluggish, hungover reflexes failing to react for an entire second as a key unsticks from his forehead and scares him in jumping at least a foot into the air.

He may or may not grace that with an undignified shout, and Zoro hopes to have escaped unheard until somebody pokes their head around the kitchen door.

“Good morning,” the stranger says, blond and lean but _not_ , in fact, the curly-brow that usually reigns over the kitchen. His smile, too, is nothing like Sanji’s smirk, but he holds up the kettle in offering as the cook would, were he in a gracious mood. “Coffee?”

“The fuck am I?” Zoro rumbles, growing uncertain with his assessment of the living room. How he came to escape the club and pass out on the sofa is beyond him, but he was sure he recognised this place until the man in the chinos ( _and_ _goddamn is that a cravat_ ) had stuck his unfamiliar head around the door.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” says the blond, putting the kettle on regardless. “I can't give you the shovel talk if you don't remember anything.”

Somebody trudging into the living room laughs, and Zoro rolls his sluggish head around in relief at Ace’s entrance.

“Ignore him,” Ace advises, beaming so brightly that Zoro is sure there must be a sinister intent behind it - and he is subsequently proven right when Ace winks at the blond. “We’re going to give you the shovel talk anyway.”

The stranger in the kitchen laughs, his clattering through the cupboards seeming to cackle along with him. Zoro feels a rising sense of dread.

“You're Luffy’s other brother,” he realises.

“Sabo,” comes the introduction, pleasant and sickly sweet. “How do you like your coffee?”

“How do you like your significant others?” Ace asks.

“Where's Luffy?” Zoro fires back, not in the mood for the good-cop, bad-cop act. God knows he gets enough of it from Nami and Rebecca, with Vivi as the neutral middle-ground.

“ _Where's Luffy_ ,” Ace parrots, laughing as he elbows his brother. “He's got his priorities in order.”

Zoro’s not sober enough for this.

“He's asleep,” Sabo replies, taking pity on Zoro’s dazed expression. “He'll wake once I start breakfast though. And before you ask, Sanji is fully aware that I am using his kitchen while he is out. You're the pescatarian?”

“Doesn't matter to me if you use the kitchen or not,” Zoro retorts, unable not to smirk at the thought of the cook blowing a fuse. “And yeah.”

“More bacon for Luffy,” Ace sing-songs, as though Zoro’s diet has any effect on Luffy’s.

“It's polite to ask,” Sabo says, referring to using the kitchen, no doubt. He retrieves five mugs and a glass from the cupboard, so there must be at least one other person in the house that Zoro doesn’t know, but he doesn't remember tagging along with anybody but Luffy last night.

“So Zoro, you're the most recent member of Luffy’s crew?” Sabo asks, and the apple juice must be for Luffy, because god forbid anybody give him caffeine.

Zoro scowls, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Is that the _polite_ way of asking if we're friends?”

“No,” Ace cuts in, translating while Sabo busies himself with breakfast. “That's the polite way of asking if you're fucking.”

Sabo swats his brother with a spoon.

Realising that one of Luffy’s siblings is now weaponised, Zoro tries - and fails because he's hungover, dammit - to tread carefully.

“What's it to you,” he barks.

Sabo turns the spoon towards him, and Ace stops snivelling long enough to snicker. “ _Very_ important,” Sabo stresses, eyes crinkling with mirth. It’s probably the thought of inflicting copious amounts of torture upon Zoro that has his eyes twinkling so.

“We’re not dating,” Zoro is quick to reassure, to which the brothers simultaneously _uh-huh_.

“So he's just a quick lay?” Ace drawls.

“What - no! Why would you -?”

Even as he passes the coffee over, Sabo drives the nail in the coffin. “So you _weren't_ getting handsy last night?”

Zoro desperately wants to say _no_ , but just because he's sleeping on the sofa doesn't mean that he _wasn't_ drunk and stupid last night.

“I - was I?” he croaks, that terrible dread clogging up his throat. He can't imagine getting _handsy_ with _anyone_ , but the thought that it might have been _Luffy_ who paid for his drunken inhibitions does not nullify this fear in the slightest. “What did I -”

The brothers exchange an unreadable look.

“Actually,” Ace begins slowly, having apparently seen whatever he needed to see in Zoro’s and Sabo’s expressions. “Lu was the one getting cuddly. He's always been overly affectionate.”

“He'll apologise, of course,” Sabo promises, which doesn't do anything to pacify Zoro’s thundering heartbeat.

Ace nods an agreement, the sincerity lessened by his shit-eating smirk. “It _was_ pretty funny.”

“I'd say you were even enjoying it,” Sabo agrees, smiling at Zoro’s dawning horror.

“Although you _were_ pretty blasted.”

“Completely,” Sabo laughs. “That must explain your enthusiasm with the kissing.”

 _Oh god_.

Zoro swallows hard, hoping this is just some hungover-induced delusion. Drowning himself in the coffee sounds like the best course of action right now. “Was he - okay with that?”

“Trust me,” Ace warns, voice smoldering and heavy beside Sabo’s razor smile. “You wouldn't have woken on the sofa if he wasn't.”

“Oh,” Zoro mumbles, spluttering a little; he's _definitely_ not cowered or anything - no, he just swallowed his coffee wrong, that's all. “Good.”

The brothers light up like Christmas trees, all smiles and good-will and threatening glares hidden away, and Zoro understands where Luffy gets it from now.

 _This family_ , he thinks, just as the last of the three brothers comes crashing into the living room at the first _pop!_ of bacon-fat in the pan, _is insane._

“FOOD,” Luffy demands, somersaulting over the sofa. If he has any idea what soft of mood he has bulldozed into, then he gives no indication as he bounds over to the kitchen, pausing only to say, “Hi Zoro! SABO ARE YOU MAKING BACON.”

“I'm making enough for everybody,” says the temporary cook, ushering the rubbery ball of energy away from the stove. “Are your friends up?”

Luffy nods, then shakes his head, not particularly answering the question as he allows himself to be coaxed away from the food. “Zoro doesn't eat meat ‘cause he's weird.”

Sabo waves the spatula as his newest weapon, and Luffy sticks his tongue out at it. “You shouldn't call somebody _weird_ just because they like different things to you.”

“But it's meat.”

The next week _swish_ of the spatula almost takes off Luffy’s nose. “Zoro’s your friend.”

“That _does_ make him weird,” Ace provides, and Zoro can't even argue.

“Luffy, you can have my meat,” he says without thinking, and Ace singing _oh OH?_ and winking suggestively has Zoro spluttering into his drink. “My BACON. You can have my BACON.”

“Your _bacon_ ,” Sabo deadpans, and if the two people snoozing upstairs weren't already awake, then they certainly are now as Ace howls an almighty laugh and almost knocks himself out on the fridge.

“Thanks Zoro,” Luffy replies, grinning innocence and glee, and that nearly makes Zoro’s mortification worth it.

Nearly.

Usopp and _Nami_ \- of all people - eventually join them for breakfast, claiming the remaining two cups of coffee with drowsy greetings. _It’s definitely brunch at this point_ , Usopp yawns, slobbing around in a trailing pair of pyjamas, but he has no complaints as Sabo shoves the fry-up under his nose. Bar Sabo, Nami is the only person to have actually discovered the shower and the wonders of clean clothes, although she does appear to be wearing one of Sanji’s turtlenecks and a pair of joggers procured from _somewhere_ , but Zoro dares not ask.

“Eh, what Sanji doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” is her argument, smirking over the rim of the mug. Usopp looks like he wants to ask if the joggers are _his_ , but then seems to decide better of it and returns to his brunch.

“Did you have a good time last night then?” is what Usopp says instead, only halfway through his meal and already offering Luffy the leftovers. It's common practice in this household to share whatever food you have with the resident glutton, but Zoro often gets away scot-free due to his pescatarian diet.

(Sometimes he thinks about ordering meat-feast pizzas or lamb curry just to give it to Luffy).

“Yeah!” cries the straw-hatted captain, eyes sweeping Zoro, Ace, and Nami in turn as though checking for agreement. “You should've come with us!”

Usopp laughs nervously, waving Luffy away. “Oh no, no, clubs aren't my scene.”

“Ah, they're not Zoro’s either!” is Luffy’s argument, which isn't really much of an argument, all things considered, and Zoro’s grumble of _thanks_ has Nami snorting a laugh.

“Well you certainly _drunk enough_ last night,” she says, and even Usopp has to concede, “You've never been that plastered.”

Zoro sighs, wishing his friends weren’t such _awful people_. “Are we _all_ going to talk about it?”

“We could talk about _you two_ instead, if you want,” Nami challenges, gesturing her fork between Luffy and Zoro. Luffy blinks oblivious, still eyeing Usopp’s plate, but Zoro isn’t fast enough to stop Nami from going on: “‘Sanji almost had a heart attack when he thought you two were getting it on last night and it was _amazing_.”

Unsure if he’s glad that Sanji isn’t here to complain right now, Zoro grunts. “We _weren't_ ,” he insists, although if Ace and Sabo are to be believed, this probably isn't true.

“Eh, we kinda were,” Luffy says, scratching beneath the scar on his cheek with a sheepish expression, tearing his eyes away from Usopp’s brunch to glance at Zoro with a wonky smile.

“Oh thank _god_ one of you remembers,” Nami drawls. “I never thought I'd see the day.”

“It's none of your business,” Zoro snaps, wishing he wasn’t so prone to blushing as the attention of the room fixes on his embarrassment. He wants to tell the room to _fuck off_ , but with Luffy’s older brothers present and _very intent_ on looking out for their youngest sibling, Zoro manages to rein himself in.

“Well being your _sister_ , it kind of _is_ ,” Nami fires back, and Luffy’s brothers speak up with noises of agreement. “Bec and Vivi are going to be _delighted_.”

“This isn't a soap opera,” Zoro hisses.

Nami cups her ear, plastering on an innocent expression. “What was that? Can't hear you.”

“I said _this isn't a soap opera_.”

“Huh? Nope, sorry. Speak up.”

“ _Nami_.”

“ _Zoro_.”

(“Certainly _sounds_ like a soap opera,” Ace whispers, to which Usopp speaks for the room at large when he sighs a heartfelt _oh dear_ ).

“Well I think last night was _great_ ,” Luffy cuts in, the bickering ceasing at his interruption. He appears to have stolen a sausage from Usopp’s plate - not that the Engineering student has noticed - and he grins as he shoves the entire thing into his mouth. “What does Zoro think?”

“I think -”

Sabo interjects a cough that has Zoro’s jaw snapping shut. _Speak carefully_ , his eyes seem to warn, and Zoro hastily swallows a scalding mouthful of coffee just to give himself the time to answer.

“I don't remember much,” is what he decides to admit, which is both true and apparently not enough to deter Luffy’s everlasting good mood.

“I'll remind you!” he declares, and with a spring in his step, the captain clambers around the guffawing group of friends to where Zoro is sitting, and he would have most likely sprawled himself right over Zoro’s lap then and there had every other single person in the room not snagged the back of his shirt. Somebody shouts _Luffy no!_ \- or maybe they all shout it, squawking and laughing together as they are - and Zoro finds himself snatching the _front_ of Luffy’s shirt as the others try to yank the boy back into his seat.

“Let him _go_ ,” Zoro barks, and at once there is a clamour of laughter and vehement squabbling: _Luffy, NOT in the living room_ , is Usopp’s plea, swiftly echoed by Sabo adding, _NOT in front of everybody_ and then elbowing Ace to _stop laughing_ _dammit_ , which only has Ace laughing even harder.

“Aww, come on, come on! I’m not going to do anything _bad_ ,” Luffy begs, struggling to break free. He reaches out and twists his hands into Zoro’s shirt in return, and Zoro cradles the last of his coffee close to his chest as the straw-hatted student wiggles and squirms towards him.

“ _We really don’t need a repeat of last night_ ,” Usopp stresses, digging his heels into the carpet. By some miracle, none of the plates and saucers have gone flying yet, but with the vigorously in which Luffy is fighting to get free, Zoro isn’t going to hold his breath.

Luffy’s laugh is more of a cackle, and his grin expels hot air against Zoro’s reddening cheek. “Yes we _do_ \- it was fun! Right Zoro? Right? Hey, hey, Zoro, you wanna go out with me? That way no one can complain when we hug and stuff! And since you’re demi we won’t have to worry about sex and all that unless that’s something you _would_ be interested in then I’m sure we could talk about it ‘cause I don’t mind you not eating bacon and ham and _steak_ and that’s just _weird_ -”

“Take the coffee.”

Luffy stops so abruptly that the others would have managed to wrench him from the sofa and maybe even halfway across the living room had Zoro not tightened his grasp.

“Eh?” he says, hat tipping over his eyes as he looks down to where Zoro’s coffee cup is being shoved into his chest.

“Take the goddamn coffee so I can _use my other hand_.”

“Oooooh,” Luffy says, laughing just inches from Zoro’s face once again. “Is that a yes?”

“Oh honestly,” Nami eventually decides to contribute, her anguish supplemented with a roll of her eyes. “Luffy - _sit_ _down_.”

He sits - falls, really, half-crawled onto Zoro’s knees as he is, and coffee sloshes over his lap as their legs crash together.

Then the front door clicks open, keys jangling with the _clip-clop_ of boots. The room holds a collective breath as Sanji appears in the doorway and raises a swirly eyebrow high at the scene before him, and the rustling _thunk_ of his shopping bags onto the table is a thunderclap in the flabbergast silence. Undeterred by the calamity he has just interrupted, Sanji rummages around and pulls a handful of sticky, paper bags from his purchases, and like a dog loyal only to whatever hand is currently feeding it, Luffy’s head snaps around at the sight.

“Would you like a jam doughnut or a chocolate danish, Nami-san?” Sanji asks, ignoring the puppy-dog eyes entirely. _How_ he does so is beyond Zoro, but the way Luffy’s gaze track the chef’s every moment seems not to faze Sanji in the slightest.

“Oooh, a danish please.”

The pastries are handed out, first to Nami then Ace, Sabo, and Usopp, and only then with a critical eye does Sanji dangle one of the danishes in front of Luffy’s nose.

“You see,” begins the chef, exaggerating a forlorn huff. “I bought this thinking that my captain was going to be on his _best behaviour_ this morning, especially after the ruckus he caused last night, but I’m not sure he deserves it now.”

Luffy deflates like an elastic balloon wheezing into a flat and sorry shape and slides from the sofa, and just like that, an unbelievable calm settles over the living room. Happy, munching noises are all there is to be heard now, and Sanji looks quite pleased with himself as he releases the danish into Luffy’s waiting hands. It doesn’t last longer than two seconds once unwrapped, but Sanji cares not, having already achieved the impossible.

“Here,” he says next, dropping a notably less gooey paper bag into Zoro’s lap. “Since you don’t like sweet things.”

Zoro stares dumbly at it, still clutching his coffee mug like a lifeline. The atmosphere in the room has flipped one-eighty on its head, and though he should be used to this crazy group of friends and their equally-crazy logic by now, he has to admit that he definitely _isn’t_.

“Err,” he eventually finds it in himself to say. “Thanks.”

Sanji has already turned away. “Yeah, well, it’s only to make a moss-head like you feel better about unwittingly _coming out_ and landing a complete moron of a boyfriend and all.”

Luffy snickers around his danish, the garbled sound drawing a wide-eyed stare from Zoro. The _boyfriend_ comment Zoro can understand - Luffy’s hollering could probably be heard all the way down the street, and really, Zoro’s not exactly going to say _no_ at this point - but it’s the other one that flies straight over his head.

He scowls, hoping that the fuzzy feeling inside of his chest from seeing Luffy’s grin doesn’t detract from his ferocity. “What was that cook?”

“Love the shirt,” is Sanji’s departing deadpan, and somebody chokes on their cake.

“What,” Zoro repeats, blinking down at his jacket-less, neon purple front. He stares for a long, stupefied minute as his friends avert their eyes around him, before he realises why Luffy’s laughter has descended into too-innocent whistling.

“ _FUCK!_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment as you go :)


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